


With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility

by Cryptonian



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, But he doesn’t like them, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Humor, If y’all call him Eleven I’m hunting you down, Love, M/M, Maturin’s cool but Stan isn’t, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Slow Burn, Stanley Uris Has Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptonian/pseuds/Cryptonian
Summary: Stan Uris’ life has never been the same after the events of the summer of 1989. The summer that changed his life for the better and for the worse. Since then the many nightmares of IT filled his head at night whenever he tried to go to sleep. Although he felt safe in his group of friends, his personal life was far from being okay. From his parent’s expectations not changing for him to be the perfect jewsish son to the power that one turtle possess that’s about to turn Stan’s perfectly calming life into a chaotic one.orStan is granted telekinetic powers but doesn’t believe it because even though he fought a cosmic sewer clown, him having powers from a turtle God is just unreal.





	1. Stanley Uris has a normal day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This fic was in my fanfic ideas notes and I just wanted to try it out. I know I have another fic that I still need to work on so I just wanna test out what happens. If it does well with people I’ll continue it! As well as my other fic, which is something you should read as well ;)))))

Stanley Uris wakes up to his favorite sound in the world, the morning birds chirping outside his window. His eyes flutter open as he stares up onto his ceiling to let his vision focus on the morning sun peeking through his curtains. The alarm clock on his nightstand hadn’t gone off yet signaling that he had woken up early. Stan turned over to check what time it was and was pleased to find out that he had woken up five minutes early from his original time he should’ve woken up, 7:00. He switches off his alarm so it wouldn’t have to go off when 7am rolls around and he sits up on his bed. His head turns to his window to find a small American Robin perched up on a branch right outside. He smiles as he kept his gaze on the bird until it flies away, which prompted Stan to get up from his bed. He puts on another color of a button down shirt and rolls up the sleeves neatly on each arm and puts on a pair of khakis. He fixes his hair and adjusts his Kippah before heading downstairs to eat breakfast.

His mother was just setting the plates on the table as she saw Stan come downstairs. Stan had the usual, scrambled eggs with a cup of milk. He sits down on his chair and greets his mother as she brought him a fork and a knife,

“Good morning mom.”

His mother smiled back as she handed him his utensils,

“Good morning Stanley, how was your sleep last night?”

“It was alright. I didn’t have a dream this time.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad you’re getting better.” She replied with a warm smile still plastered on her face, “Did you see any new birds when you woke up?

“Only a normal American Robin outside my window. Nothing really special since they’re always up and about.”

“Still Stanley they are precious birds and it’s always nice being able to see such a beauty this morning. I also haven’t heard your alarm clock go off today so I guess today you’re an early bird.”

“I guess you’re right mom.”

Morning were always the best part of Stan’s day. The amount of nightmares and sleepless nights he had from his encounter with IT deprived him of a well rested night for what felt like forever. So he always felt relieved and calm to wake up and look at the warm sunlight every morning. Of course his parents had started to notice the bags under his eyes and constantly berated him for it until he finally spilled about his night terrors that haunted him for the longest time. It took some therapy and some one to one talks between him and his parents but after all that, it seemed to have worked. Sure his constant paranoia would cook one nightmare up from time to time but it was never anything serious like before.

Once he was done with his food, he puts it in the sink and waves his mother goodbye as he slings on his backpack and walks out the door. He grabs his bike from the side of the house and begins to ride off down his neighborhood. The sound of the morning static mixed with the singing birds around him along with the sound his turning bike wheels put him in a good mood as he rode down to Richie Tozier’s house.

His parents were good friends with the Tozier’s so they always advised Stan to meet Richie there to walk with him to school, even though Stan himself wasn’t too fond of Richie and him riding to school together while Richie chewed his ear off with his homage of dick jokes and his occasional singing of some band he listened too. The songs Richie would sing weren’t bad at all, it was mostly Richie’s obnoxious voices he would pull to imitate the way the singer sang a song that would mess it all up for Stan.

Surprisingly he sees Eddie Kaspbrak sitting on his steps outside of his house already. He parks his bike on the sidewalk and walks up to Eddie. Eddie’s head perks up at Stan as he gets closer,

“I guess I’m not the only early bird this morning.”

Eddie chuckles, “This was my only way of getting out of my house to come here.”

“So What you’re saying is, is that you snuck out?”

“No.”, Eddie bit his lip, “Okay Yea. When I get up earlier than my mom I just slip right by her so since she sleeps like a fucking rock.”

Stan crossed his arms and smirked, “How long have you been waiting here anyways?”

“Only about a couple of minutes right now. I told Rich I was going to be doing this yesterday so I hope he gets up-“

“Hello ladies!”

The boy’s attention turn towards the slammed open door to see Richie Tozier standing there with his usual look. His hair in shambles with a big toothy grin on his face looking confident but also the huge mess that he always was. He shut his front door and gave started to make his way towards the two,

“Sup spaghetti head. I see you were waiting for little ol me to come strolling out here.” He gave Eddie a wink to make Eddie’s response only a scoff and an eye roll.

Richie nodded at Stan with his hands on his hips, his backpack dangling from his left wrist until he finally pulled it up and over his shoulder. “Mornin’ Stan the man. I see you’ve been waiting with dear Eddie here.”

“You know I don’t recall saying Beetlejuice three times so I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Richie replied in a gruff and hoarse imitation of Beetlejuice’s voice, “Awe come on Stanley lighten up!” Richie slightly punched Stan on the shoulder and Stan gave the same response from Eddie by scoffing and rolling his eyes.

The boys rode their way towards Derry high and parked their bikes next to the four other familiar bikes on the rack. While Richie still kept teasing Eddie about how got all “gussied up for him” Stan kept his gaze in front him. His eyes scanned the halls of Derry High as he found the same cliques in the same areas he would always find them in. Stan heard Richie say something about his dick but Stan didn’t register it or even cared as he saw his usual friend group come into his peripheral.

One by one each of the other losers turned their attention from each other to the three boys walking up to each other. Beverly was the first to walk towards Richie with her hands on her hips and a sassy walk to go along with it,

“There you are Trashmouth! Do you have the algebra homework?”

“Of course Ringwald!” Richie planted his backpack on the ground and dug through the hellscape that was the inside of his bag. Stan couldn’t understand how Richie could survive with a lot of junk and trash stuffed in his backpack along with his unorganized and crumpled papers all forcefully shoved together inside.

Stan turned his attention to Mike, Ben, and Bill as he took his share of strides over to them. He waved them a ‘hello’ and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders,

“H-hey Stan, we we-were just talking ab-about the update on Henry B-B-Bowers.”

Stan’s eyes widened at the mention of the name he hadn’t heard in forever, “Oh? I thought he was still in jail?”

“Was in jail.” Ben repeated putting emphasis on the ‘was’, “I heard he got moved to an insane asylum after his court hearing went batshit.”

“Yea. As soon as the bodies of the rest of his goons and his dad popped up as his victims with his motive being a mystery, I’m pretty sure they had the right to send him over there.” Mike replied with his arms crossed whilst leaning on the lockers next to him.

“Yeah, no kidding. I mean I knew Henry was crazy but I didn’t know he was just crazy crazy.” Stan sighed out thinking about the memory of Henry almost killing Mike at the well house and the bloodied bodies of his goons he saw on the news when they found him. All of the losers were still surprised he managed to survive the fall in the well.

Right on que, the bell rings signaling students to go to their first period class and Stan walks with Ben to History. The rest of his school day was fairly normal as he went through his regular classes until after lunch he had to walk into the class he hated the most, honors English.

Honors English not only sucked the life out him from all the work and homework they had to do in there. But it was his teacher, Mr. Leno. Stan despised Mr. Leno because of the way he writes on the board and the way he talks, which is both super slow and boring. It didn’t help that he always wrote on the chalkboard painfully hard and slow so that the screeching sound of the chalk pressed up against the board would shatter his eardrums.

Luckily he had that class with Bill so he had someone to vent and share his frustrations to in there. It was also lucky they chose desks next to each other in the beginning of the school year and did need changing since in Mr. Leno’s ears, they were always quiet. But their secret was that they always passed notes to each other in class while his back was turned and was babbling off about something.

_B: Mr. Leno is talking about essays and shit again. God I can’t take this anymore._

_S: I KNOW. I don’t know how much longer I can take of him scratching the poor chalkboard._

_B: Also the chalk! The small thing is screaming with every stroke he takes!_

_S: I can’t look at this murder being committed in front of me right now. I’m gonna doodle on this if you don’t mind._

Once Bill read Stan’s note he nodded and handed the paper back to Stan. Stan started sketching out different types of birds on the blank bottom of the paper for most of the class. It wasn’t until Bill rapped his shoulder and signaled him to give him the paper that he stopped. Stan looked at Bill in confusion and Bill whispered that he wanted to try drawing on there as well. He gave back the paper to Bill and watched him draw for the remainder of the class.

Once the bell rung Stan got up from his desk and walked in front of Bill’s to see what he was drawing. Bill looked satisfied with his drawing and he handed it to Stan,

“Y-you always d-draw birds so I-I decided to draw s-something different.”

“So you decided to draw a turtle?”

“Well y-yea. I d-don’t know why but m-my mind was just telling me t-that you had to see a t-turtle before you left s-school today.”

Stan admires the drawing that was neatly sketched with a pencil before being layered with a pen and colored in with a mix of a pencil and a pen. He folded the paper neatly and tucked it into his spot where he usually put the other pieces of paper they shared for notes were stored, he would later get them at home and have them in a nice folder for their conversations.

Stan’s last class of the day was P.E where he would talk to Eddie most of the time while the other kids would goof off and while the P.E teachers would talk amongst themselves. Eddie was a student helper for his P.E class since his mother still didn’t allow him to take part in any physical activities in fear of his asthma attacks and the countless other sickness she said he would get if he did do P.E. Eddie knew that they were all placebos but he wasn’t complaining, he didn’t have to run miles every month and all he did was watch Stan die every second during the runs.

Greta Bowie was also in his P.E class and she would always flirt with the hot boys in his class along with bully Stan and Eddie. Today though she was too busy talking to her zombie following of other girls she called friends to poke fun at Stan and Eddie. They were supposed to playing flag football but no one cared enough to play the game correctly so Stan just hung out with Eddie until P.E was ended.

Stan and Eddie walked to the bike rack where they found Richie standing there with his bike already unhooked, waving Ben and Beverly goodbye along with signing Ben with his two hands making kissing motion each other to which Ben replied with the middle finger as he caught up with Beverly.

“Ahh those two lovebirds always brings a tear to my eye.”, He wiped away a fake tear from his right eye, “It’s so sad me and you can’t be like that Eddie.”

A blush appeared on the smaller boy’s face and he punched Richie in the shoulder to which Richie barely felt but still rubbed the spot he got punched on.

“I hate that I have to be going home with you.” Eddie unhooked his bike, along with Stan, and brought it over to Richie where he was still standing with a giant smirk on his face.

“Why’s that Eddie Bear? You know I love seeing your mom freak out when she see’s me riding alongside you!”

Eddie pointed a finger at Richie, “That. That right there”

Eddie and Richie both waved Stan a goodbye before heading off onto a separate direction from where Ben and Beverly rode off too. Stan was left alone near the bike rack before Bill and Mike walked up to him.

“Hiya Stan.” Mike said quickly while getting his bike off the rack, “See ya Stan. See ya Bill.” He waved Stan and Bill goodbye as he rode off.

“J-jeez that kid n-n-needs a break.”

“I know. At least he’s making good money off of the butcher shop. There’s really only a matter of time before he could buy a full car for himself.”

The pair biked in a comfortable silence through the streets and buildings of Derry for a while before they started nearing Bill’s house first and the boys dismounted their bikes to continue just walking side by side for the rest of the way there,

“Uhm about t-the turtle.”

Stan cocked his head to his right where Bill was walking, “ Yeah, I really like the drawing- “

“No Stan I-“ Bill stammered with his words as he tapped the handlebars of his bike, “ I had this l-like weird sort of v-visions that m-made me draw the turtle s-s-specifically for you.”

“And?” Stan looked at Bill, puzzled to why Bill was bringing it up.

“But they aren’t l-like any well r-regular visions or something.” He scratched the back of his head, thinking of a better way to put his words. “I-it felt weird l-like the t-turtle was trying to t-tell me something in a w-way.”

“Huh, well that’s a weird dream.”

“It w-wasn’t a dream St-Stan I really felt like I-I was somewhere w-with this turtle before I-I woke up.” Bill stopped in his tracks when he realizes his house is coming up in front of them, “Well b-b-bye Stan.”

Stan said his share of a goodbye as he watched Bill throw his bike onto his front lawn and jog up the steps of his house. He didn’t leave until he saw Bill enter his house and when he did he headed in the direction of his own.

Once Stan went inside his house, he greeted his father who was in the living room with his favorite mug in one hand and the other hand situating the daily newspaper.

“Hello Stanley.”

Stan straightened his posture and nodded at his father,

“Hey dad.”

“What did you do at school today?”, his father asked as he took a sip of his beverage.

“Only the usual, work”, Stan tried saying it as nonchalauntly as possible and laughed at the end of it, trying to act more like it was his usual routine, which it was.

His father didn’t laugh back, his expression barely changed. “I see, you go off and do your homework now. I expect to see it done before dinner.”

Stan’s eyes widened at his father’s response but he still nodded rushed off to his room. Once he got to his room, he unpacked his homework and unfolded the paper him and Bill shared doodles and notes on for the day. He wrote the date on it and put in his folder that was filled with the other notes they passed and set it down on his desk before starting his homework.

Luckily he only had three homework assignments today and didn’t have much to worry about, dinner was usually at 6 and it was about 3:50 right now so he knew he would be able to finish them on time, as he always did.

Stan’s night would continue the way it always did for him, with his mother calling him down for dinner as he finished the last problem on his homework and him feeling satisfied and tired. Dinner was a quiet one for him with Stan only listening in on his parents small talk while he ate his pasta and chicken.

They talked about the weather, what Mr. Uris did at work as well at the synagogue after work. His mother on the other hand had her daily book club meeting with Ms. Tozier and other neighborhood mothers like Ms. Denbrough. Her book club meetings took place while Stan was at school and described it as being very lovely and calming since they discussed a fascinating book Ms. Denbrough was reading about some horror story that Stan lost attention at.

Stan’s night came to a close once the moon shone through the Uris household and he followed his routine of checking on his daily bird watching book and making new updates on the birds he saw today and sketching new ones in the blank spaces of the pages.

His curfew was creeping up on him so he showered, got dressed, and wished his parents goodnight from the top of his stairs. Once he got a goodnight back from both of his parents he went off to bed.

He slowly drifted off to sleep as this last moment was marked as the end of his once peaceful world and the start of a world Stan would not have expected.

________•••_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_Everything is dark and all Stan could see was the shape and silhouette of a massive force coming relatively closer to him at a slow pace. He doesn’t panic, he doesn’t try to run, he only stays and looks ahead at the figure. Stan seemed to be floating in the middle of what looks to be space as he waits for something to arrive. He takes a good look at his surroundings and found himself to be, definitely, floating somewhere in space. He doesn’t know why but he waits patiently until the figure to appeared to him as a massive turtle._

_The turtle looked like the turtle Bill drew on the paper as it swam over his head. The being swam in circles around Stan before stopping in front of him. Stan peered into it’s big and piercing eyes as he heard the turtle chant a few echoey words to him without opening it’s mouth. Stan felt an energy surge through his body before the turtle dissolved into the cosmos around him. He didn’t quite hear what the turtle had chanted even though it felt so loud and booming around him. He tried calling out to the turtle in confusion but was only met with his voice being muffled and muted as he stayed floating there trying to make a sound._

_Suddenly, there was a growing mass of light that took the place of the turtle’s path in front of him. He looked at it and winced at the light that struck his eyes. In one last desperate attempt to call back the being he saw he waved his arms and legs to try and rock himself free of his floating paralysis and screamed into the void of space. He looked in all directions, above him, below him, left and right of him; but with no luck Stan looked towards the expanding light and tried blocking it with his arms in an ’X’ formation across his face as he was helplessly devoured by the light._


	2. Stanley Uris has a weird day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! I'm back with a new chapter to this story!! I'm so sorry this took me so long but I'm trying to develop a nice long story and I want it to be as descriptive as I can make it. I hope you enjoy this cause it's a bit long so get comfortable!!

Stan jolted awake to the sound of his sharp alarm clock. He groaned in annoyance as he tried to keep his eyes open and not fall back asleep. He groggily threw his hand over to snooze the alarm but heard it hit the wall before breaking upon impact and stopping. His eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight and stayed open. 

Stan turned to see his now broken alarm clock on the ground with his hand still over the absent place of it on his nightstand. But he didn’t have time to deal with the fact he knocked over his alarm clock and broke it, he was still in the state of calming his mind before getting out.

He sat upright in his bed and grazed his eyes over to his window. No bird was outside on the branch today and he sighed in disappointment. Next he turned to the broken alarm clock on the ground and his eyes widened on the severity of it. He sprung up and rushed over to it, carefully picking it up as if it was a child. 

The whole clock was shattered on the side it hit the wall on and the glass covering was almost completely gone as the bits and pieces of it were on the floor. Puzzled and dumbfounded, Stan looked around his room for a possible hiding spot for now since he couldn’t deal with his parents concern to his broken alarm clock who he himself didn’t know the reason for it breaking.

“Stan! Breakfast!”

His head perked up at his mother’s call as he took one look at the broken alarm clock in his hands and snapped his head to his closet, perfect!

“C-coming! I’m just getting dressed!”

Stan hurried over to his closet with his broken alarm clock in his hands and reached his arm out to open it when suddenly the door opened by itself. Stan stopped dead in his tracks with his hand still lurched out as he took notice of where he was in his room. The closet door wasn’t even at arms reach from where he was and it still opened. Panic settled in as a small part of him was waiting for a gloved, sharp hand to poke out and grip the door frame.

He gripped the broken alarm clock, feeling the broken glass cut into his fingertips as he slowly backed up from the closet. The memories of his first encounter with IT came flooding back to him. It felt like he could hear the whistle of the flute all over again. His breathing became fast and hoarse and his body shook and shivered in fear.

“Stanley! Hurry up! You’re breakfast is going to get cold!”

With his eyes still widened and gaze snapping towards the door at his mother’s voice, his panic started to die down. The thought of him defeating IT two years ago replaced the haunting nostalgia that was in his head as he threw the alarm clock in his closet. The same part of him was expecting the alarm clock to bounce back out but he shook his head at the thought. 

Instead, he locked his eyes on a shirt and jeans and bolted for them. He quickly grabbed both items and slammed his closet door shut. His heart was pounding as if he had just ran a marathon with his eyes not leaving the closet door. In the moment he stood in his room, clutching his clothes with shaky hands, he tried to rationalize all of this.

He simply told himself that this was all in his head and there was nothing to be afraid of. Stan didn’t dare try to even go near the ‘it was just the wind’ explanation to the phenomenon that just happened since it wouldn’t really help and if anything it would just make it worse. Once Stan got his breathing situated, he went on to put on his outfit for the day and run downstairs.

His mother was cleaning the kitchen counter as well as organizing the plates in the cupboard. She turned her head at the sound of her son’s footsteps coming towards her and turned her head back to the cupboard,

“There you are Stanley! What took you so long?”

“I’m sorry mom my alarm clock broke.” Stan barely paid attention to his mother’s annoyed tone with him as he sat down to eat his breakfast. Today she served him two mini pancakes with syrup and milk.

“Oh? How so? It was working perfectly fine the last time”, she asked as she put the final plate in the cupboard.

“I don’t know. I just need a new one. Like I woke up to it all busted I don’t know what happened.” He shrugged as he stuffed his mouth with a piece of the pancake.

“Well..Alright but I’ll have your father take a look at it when he comes home.”

“I had a weird dream last night mom.” Stan interjected, wanting to change the topic of the conversation. He knew his mom would instantly forget the current one since she was always on the nose about his dreams.

“Why? What happened?” She asked curiously, laying her arm on the counter.

“Well, for some reason I was in space. I was just floating. Like I couldn’t move or anything. Then I see this figure or something approach me,” he took another bite out of the pancake, “Then it appeared to me as a giant sea turtle. I remember it saying something but I don’t remember exactly what it said. Then the turtle disappeared and I woke up.”

His mother was analyzing his dream sequence, it didn’t sound nightmarish or anything Stan could hate. It was really just like he said, weird.

“Well that’s certainly one..interesting dream.” She nodded in response while checking on the plants on the window above the sink.

“Yea and then when I woke up I just- “ as Stan was reaching out for his milk, it moved towards him and jumped onto his free hand. He froze and quickly put down his cup of milk. He got from his chair and started backing away from it, hopefully his mother saw what happened.

“What? You just what Stanley?” His mother asked with her attention still on the flowers.

He looked at his mother, then looked at the milk. He shut his eyes as he shook his head to force those thoughts out of his head.

“Nothing. Never mind. I’ll see you after school mom.” Without even hearing his mother’s response, he stomped over to the front door and snatched his backpack.

Once outside he hurried over to his bike that was parked on his front lawn and peddled towards the Tozier’s house. His senses were turned up to the max as he sped through his neighborhood as if there was a killer clown chasing him, well he thought a killer clown was chasing him. 

The sounds, the different smells, even the temperature were things Stan took note of as all his mind could think about was the paranormal occurrences he experienced this morning. He couldn’t believe in ghosts, monsters, demons because there was just no way they could exist. 

But after the summer of 1989, Stan has no choice but to face the facts. No one knows what lurks above, below, or even around them; and Stan sure as hell doesn’t know. Anything could be hiding anywhere and Stan wasn’t about to be the one trying to find it, not again.

The Trashmouth’s house was in sight as Stan was worried he couldn’t stop his bike from how fast he was going. He lifted his legs off of the pedals and let his bike ride it’s way down to Richie’s house. Richie and Eddie were outside with their hands on their bikes and they turned their heads when they saw and heard Stan’s bike come towards them.

Both boys smiled and waved but Stan didn’t move a muscle as he neared them and slowly stopped his bike. Stan hopped off his bike as Richie started to walk towards him,

“There you are Stanley! What took you so l- “

“It’s back.”

Richie shut his mouth quick and Eddie joined in, in disbelief of what he heard. He looked at both Stan and Richie with his bike still to the side of him,

“What?”

“It’s back. I-I.. i-it”

Eddie put his hand on Stan’s shoulder, “Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He nudged Richie who only stood there with his jaw hanging open. “Just tell us what happened.”

They rode their bikes more slowly to school to take in what Stan was saying and to calm him down. He told Richie and Eddie everything, from the alarm clock hitting the wall and breaking, the closet doors opening by themselves, and his cup of milk that slid onto his hand. He even asked them if they had any weird experiences like him but they only shook their heads, which only made Stan worry more.

Eddie rode next to Stan and tried giving him support and reassurance when he told him about his morning Although Richie’s face conveyed that he didn’t believe what was happening, he barely made any jabs or pokes at Stan as he saw how affected he was by it. When they neared the school they all knew they had to tell the others immediately.

They locked their bikes and headed off to their meeting area, seeing them all by the lockers bickering amongst themselves. The trio walked quickly up to the group and one by one the rest of the loser’s face turned into a frown when they saw the trio walk up to them without a smile on their face. 

Mike noticed and asked first,

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s back.”

Eddie, Richie, and Stan all said in unison and the others' eyes widened. They all looked at each other before looking back at the trio in front of them.

“B-But we def-defeated it in th-the sewers,” Bill responded. “That’s not po-possible.”

“I know Bill,” Stan shot back. “But stuff happened today that I can’t explain.”

So he told them the same thing, breaking down less this time. His words were at a quick pace as they all listened. Each nodded their head while he was talking and didn’t interrupt or ask questions until he was done. Beverly asked the first question,

“I don’t mean to rude Stan but, I’m sure there’s another cause for all that.” She bit her lip and squeezed Ben’s hand. “It couldn’t have been it..”

“Beverly I know what I saw. A-and I kn-know it happened!” Stan’s voice cracked and stammered as panic settled in again.

The light above them flickered once and the locker Richie was putting his stuff in slammed shut. Richie yelped and stumbled backwards, looking at the group. Richie pointed at his locker and looked at Eddie who stood next to him when it happened, with Eddie opening his mouth to say something about it but was cut off from Bill walking over to Stan.

Bill put his arm around Stan who was hunched over and looking down at the ground,

“H-hey.” Stan turned his head at him. “W-we’re going to figure this out. J-just calm down for now okay?”

Bill rubbed Stan’s shoulder and Stan nodded, taking in a few breaths as he settled down. The rest of the group was still in wonder about Richie’s locker while Richie took glances at it as he opened and closed it. Thinking about how it could’ve been slammed so quick and hard.

The bell rang and the losers all took their turns giving Stan reassurance that they’ll come back to talk about this at lunch or whenever they see him. Ben kissed Beverly on the cheek before he stayed behind to walk with Stan to history class. He walked with Ben asking questions about the events,

“Maybe when you went to turn your alarm off you accidentally hit it off your nightstand.”

“No, I would’ve felt it hit my hand.” He thought about the incident with his eyes forward and Ben on his side.

Ben looked down and frowned biting the inside of his cheek, “Look I’m sorry Stan I know those were weird but, you’re not exactly being harmed? Like you didn’t get hurt from your closet door right?”

Stan shook his head, “No. But that’s what I’m saying Ben! It couldn’t..it can’t. It just doesn’t make sense.”

They neared Stan’s history class and Ben had to give his share of a goodbye before heading off to his own class. “I know Stan. Well whatever it is we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

Stan nodded at him and walked into his history class. The rest of his day went by the same way, only with the events of his morning replaying in his mind. He tried to distract himself by looking out the window whenever he could, often looking to spot any new bird or even a shape he could form from the clouds outside. Although this did help, he couldn’t stop his mind from coming back to his morning. An inner fear built inside of him as he went from class to class, barely participating in any of his classes today from the thing eating at his brain.

It was fifth period and Stan was sitting with his head leaned on his hand and his foot lightly tapping under his desk. He thought his biology class felt longer as he zoned out from his teacher’s lesson to try and rationalize, again, to himself. 

_We defeated the thing._  
_We defeated IT._  
_IT’s gone._  
_I probably did hit my alarm clock off my nightstand._  
_The closet doors probably had a loose screw in them._  
_I probably pulled the table cloth when I reached for my milk._  
_Probably._

The word rang around in his head like an annoying fly. As much as he told his mind to remove ‘probably’ from his thoughts, he couldn’t. He really did have no explanation for what happened that morning. He tried to give all possible reasons for it happening like being drowsy that he hallucinated all those things or any past thought he had before.

Once biology was over, Stan rushed to his friend group who was sitting at a lunch table outside the gym. Bill and Richie just had P.E together so they sat there first. Stan made a sharp turn to their table and started walking up to it. He set his things down on the table and sat down quickly,

“Okay before you say anything,” Richie said as he lifted a finger at Stan who had his mouth open to start talking, “Did you even see what happened to my locker?”

Stan tilted his head, “What? No.”

Richie nodded, “Well when you were explaining to the others about your day, it closed on me by itself.” He turned his head to Bill, “This guy here went to calm you down so I don’t think that’s why you didn’t notice.”

Stan looked over at Bill who looked back at him before letting his eyes drop down to the floor with a peeking smile on his face. Stan did the same and soon enough the other came in one by one. First Eddie, then Beverly along with Ben, then Mike.

Once all of them were situated in their place in the table Mike spoke up about the obvious,

“Stan look. I did some thinking while I was in class and I’m sorry but I don’t see how It could’ve came back.”

Ben nodded in agreement, “Yea Stan. It only comes every 27 years. And it’s been doing that since the first settlers in Derry.”

As much as Stan wanted to rebuke that statement with one of his own, he really wanted to drop the topic of conversation. His thinking in and during classes helped him rationalize mostly everything himself and he wanted nothing more than to just call the events of his morning, weird.

“Yea-Yea just forget it guys.” He waved them off as he took out his lunch, “I think they’re just me being drowsy and my mind imagining things.”

The losers all turned to each other in confusion. Richie has the most perplexed face put on so that his big, bulky glasses scrunched up along with his face. He leaned up on the table and slammed down on it,

“Woa woa woa Staniel! What about my locker? I didn’t shut it myself-“

“Well maybe you did and you just..just forget it Rich.”

Richie bit his lip and sat himself down before he said anything. He wanted to come back at it but Bill only shook his head at him before he could even open his mouth. He saw that Stan was getting irritated and didn’t want to push him any further. The whole group fell silent for a moment before Richie bringing the conversation back up about local school gossip. Even though the group did quickly move on from Stan’s predicament, they didn’t forget about it; especially Richie and the event that happened with his locker.

Although he kept the losers occupied with the story of how he caught some kid masturbating in the bathroom during fourth period, his mind ate at the thought of his locker. It couldn’t bother him this much but it was weird and it stuck with him. As much as he wanted to bring up the locker incident, he kept it in the back of his mind to save for a conversation with Eddie during sixth period.

Lunch ended and the losers all parted ways, leaving Bill and Stan to walk to English. They walked through the halls together before Bill brought up a question,

“Hey Stan l-look I know y-you might not wanna an-answer this but,” he waited for Stan to shush him about it but when he didn’t he continued, “Did y-you see anything be-before you woke up? L-like in a dream?”

Stan’s mind shot back at his weird dream he had,

“Well yeah but, I don’t think it had anything to do with that.”

“B-But maybe it did. It-it depends on wh-what you saw.”

Stan held the door open for Bill as they walked inside, he whispered that he would tell Bill about it in a note as they sat down in their seats. Stan was so preoccupied with the events of his morning, he forgot about his most hated class. Still he took out his notebook and tore out a spare piece of paper for him and Bill’s notes.

Mr. Leno started to write on the chalkboard as Stan started to write on the paper. For some reason, Stan thought he was writing more slower and scratching the chalk up against the board more slowly and harder because he could hear every little creek from the board. He clenched his teeth at the sound as he focused on writing his first statement to Bill, but the noise started to get unbearable. It could’ve been the stress he was under from today, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked up at Mr.Leno who was writing on the board slowly and focused his attention on the piece of chalk in his hand. His annoyance and impatience seemed to peak inside of Stan and after some heavy staring at the chalk, it exploded in Mr.Leno’s hand.

The chalk exploded in a crack, followed by a puff of smoke and a yell from Mr.Leno. The class all raised their attention up at Mr.Leno who stumbled back from the impact, he looked down at the dust pile of chalk that was on him and his floor,

“What in God's name!.. uhm,” Mr.Leno stared down at the chalk stained floor and his clothes. “Don’t worry class I have a spare piece.”

Stan shifted his head towards Bill who looked just as shocked as him and the rest of the class. Stan mouthed a ‘did you just see that?’ to which Bill nodded too. Stan let his pencil fall onto his desk not in panic, but in bewilderment over what happened in front of him and in front of the class.

_Did I do that?_

He turned away from Bill as he dismissed the thought in his head for it being impossible. The students around him started to chatter a bit over the situation until Mr.Leno shushed them all, although Bill wanted to continue chatting on paper. Stan still had the paper on his desk so Bill leaned over and tried to snag it before Stan whispered,

“I wanna get my mind off of this. Can we talk on the way home?”

Bill looked up at Stan, thinking about how Stan couldn’t talk about what happened. Still he didn’t want to ask questions so he nodded and leaned back into his seat.

The rest of the English felt like a blur to Stan, literally.  
He didn’t know if it was from the panic or the amount of tiredness he weirdly felt, but for the rest of class all he did was doodle on what was supposed to be the note paper of the day between him and Bill. The two still occasionally glanced at each other from time to time to awkwardly check on each other. Nevertheless, neither seemed bothered by it even though when one got caught staring the other still looked away.

The bell rung as Stan was already packed up early, waiting at his desk with his backpack in hand ready to just stand up and leave. Stan was putting on his backpack while Bill was hurriedly packing up his things and catching up to Stan who was slowly walking out of the classroom. Once Bill caught up with Stan he pulled over his other backpack strap while walking to their next class,

“I-I’m not letting it g-go Stan.”

“Letting what go?”

Bill threw his arm behind him to point to their English class, “Uh m-maybe what ha-happened in there!”

Stan gave no expression as a reaction and kept his voice monotone, “Well yea I’m sure no one else in that classroom could.”

“And you sh-shouldn’t too.”

“What? What do you mean?”, Stan was walking at a quicker pace this time as he both wanted to not talk about it and not be late to P.E.

Bill noticed and started keeping up with him by matching his fast pace walking, “Don’t ‘Wh-What do you mean?’ Me! The chalk just ex-exploded in Mr.L-Leno’s hand and y-you don’t want to ta-talk about it?”. 

Bill and Stan stopped at Bill’s classroom that was right next to the entrance of the gym. Bill leaned up against the door frame,

“Y-you know you were th-the one who bro-brought this up in the first pl-place.”

“I know.” Stan looked down and then back up, while also changing his tone to be more firm and demanding. “But I don’t want this to turn into some insane investigation that involves paranormal or demonic bullshit and..and anything involving killer clowns.” He mumbled the last part.

He could hear a sigh come from Bill as he knew Bill wanted to talk more in depth about it and wasn’t happy with Stan’s answer, he knew the bike ride home would be awkward but he still waved Bill a goodbye and went off to the boys locker room. He internally dragged himself at the thought that he was going to have to hear Eddie’s stance on the subject.

Sure enough as soon as Stan got dressed, got marked present, and was sitting in the bleachers while other students either sat by him or played basketball; Eddie was there by his side being reassuring but also pressing.

“Okay-Okay I know you probably still don’t want to talk about this. But Richie wouldn’t shut up about his locker shutting on his own during Algebra today but I don’t believe that Trashmouth for a second so wh-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it Eddie.” Stan interjected without even looking at Eddie, Still keeping his eyes on the players in the court.

“Why? You were so pressed on talking about it to the others this morning and then you shut it down during lunch. So what gives?”

Stan contemplated telling Eddie about the chalk incident in his English class but realized that if he really wanted to stop talking up the subject, he shouldn’t bring it up as it would only raise more questions.

“Nothing Eddie, I just..” He stopped himself before he was about to repeat the same thing he told Bill. “Just don’t want this to turn into another clown investigation or something y’know?”

Eddie furrowed his brows, “What’s so bad about that?”

“What’s so bad!?”, Stan sat up and faced Eddie directly. “I almost lost my life in those sewers and don’t you forget about what happened to you too.” He pointed a finger at Eddie’s right arm.

Eddie rubbed his now healed arm, “Yeah, I mean how could I? But we’re not talking about missing kids or stuff anymore. Really we’re talking ab-“

Eddie was interrupted when a piece of paper hit Eddie in the head. He looked back at who threw the piece of trash and was greeted with the worst sight and eye could ever behold. A laughter was bubbling from the bleachers above them and Stan and Eddie looked up to see Greta Bowie sitting with her group looking down at them with a disgusting grin on her face.

“Pick it up loser!”, Greta yelled from the top with a bitch face put on not even giving Eddie any empathy or remorse.

Eddie looked down at the piece of gum wrapper that laid next to his shoe. He was still a germaphobe on the inside and wanted nothing to do with the piece of trash by his foot so he just kicked it away from him and called it an ‘Out of sight. Out of mind’ type of resolution.

Stan glared at Greta and her circle of mindless followers who were all still obnoxiously laughing. He turned back to Eddie who sat with his arms crossed, embarrassment still shining on his face. He leaned closer to Eddie and comforted him in a small voice only him and Eddie could hear,

“Don’t think about it too much Eddie. I mean at least you don’t have every type of STD up your ass.”

Eddie chuckled and relaxed his body, “I guess you're right Stan. Fucking disgusting slut of the school.” He eyed the direction the wrapper went, “Can’t even pick up her own trash.”

They shared a laugh which faded into silence. Stan could see Eddie’s willingness to talk more about the thing that got him so riled up in the morning by the eye looks he gave to Stan and the tapping of his fingers against the bleachers. Although deep down inside Stan wanted to address it again, he didn’t want any part of any supernatural or scary investigation again.

When P.E ended Stan did his usual, he got dressed, pushed pass the older and taller boys in the locker room who were all sweaty and gross, and then met Eddie outside of the gym. The two headed off to the front of the school where they would meet up with the others and all say their goodbyes to.

Ben and Beverly always rode to his house together, Eddie met up with Richie on a daily so Eddie rode down with Richie again, and after a couple of moments of waiting Stan saw Mike mount on his bike and head off. It was him and Bill’s turn to ride home so the boys both got onto their bikes and went to their usual route.

Stan’s observantness made him acknowledge the silence that flowed between them while they rode. They had their silent bike rides at times but Stan could tell it was because Bill was scared to bring up a conversation and wanted to talk about the incident in English. Stan tried to think of any conversation starters he could use except that, until he remembered. 

Stan rode up next to Bill so he could be in talking distance, “Hey so uh about my weird dream.”

Bill looked shocked he even brought it up but he still wanted to hear about it. He almost forgot since his mind had been nothing but exploding chalk, “Oh y-yea tell me ab-about it.”

“Well it was really weird,” he took a deep breath as he tried to reach his dream from his clouded mind. “It started out with me floating somewhere in space. I couldn’t move or anything. And then I just see this huge silhouette coming towards me and when it finally came close it turned out to be-”

“A turtle”, Bill interrupted while braking on his bike.

Stan stopped his bike abruptly after Bill stopped his and turned back to look at him.

“You saw a t-turtle didn’t you?”

Stan got off his bike and flipped it around,

“Y-Yea. How did-“

“I t-told you about m-me having w-weird visions yes-yesterday of a turtle remember?.” Bill walked a couple steps over to Stan in front of him with his bike at his side. “L-let me guess, the t-turtle appeared in front of you and mu-mumbled some shit then y-you woke up.”

Stan stood there and blinked, “Yea. Yea that’s exactly how it went. When did you-”

“A c-couple nights ago,” he started walking down the street they were on with Stan following beside him, “Th-then I couldn’t st-stop thinking ab-about it. So I g-guess that’s wh-why I drew a turtle o-on the paper yesterday.”

Stan pursed his lips and nodded, “It was really good though. I mean for a doodle I even recognized it in my dream as the one you drew.”

“Thanks S-stan but do y-you know what th-this means?”

Stan knew exactly what this meant but he didn’t want to delve into it, “No.”

“Don’t ‘No’ m-me Stan!” Bill knew what Stan was trying to do, play the oblivious one. “Wh-What if the others a-are going to have a d-dream like this next? Who’s next? And don’t yo-you think it means anything wh-when we both have th-the same dream?”

Stan shook his head acknowledging the fact Bill stayed but again, not wanting this to turn into anything else. “Maybe it was just a coincidence? Two people can have practically similar dreams Bill.”

“But it’s n-not practicality si-similar!” He threw his free arm up in the air. “You s-said it yourself th-that that’s exactly how your d-dream went.” Bill could see his house coming into view and bit his lip that he had to cut the conversation short, “D-don’t think I’m done with th-this.”

“Well I mean, when are you not done with these things?” He mumbled as he recalled the same fighting spirit that shined in Bill during the time of It.

Bill pursed his lips and turned to his house, “O-okay you’re right but, yo-you can’t just push th-this sorta thing aw-away Stan. This could mean s-something!”

Stan stared at Bill as he stood on his front lawn yelling everything out so his neighbors could hear. He sighed and walked hopped onto his bike, “I’ll see you tomorrow dude.”

As Stan peddled towards his home he regretted even bringing up his dream to Bill in the first place. Even though he couldn’t see Bill’s reaction or even see or hear it Bill said “Goodbye” back, there was a strain he could feel in his heart as he thought about him. Stan was always an observant person and he could just feel Bill’s heart sink when he ignored what Bill had said.

He had a soft spot for him, even though he was that idiot that dragged him into the sewers that he almost died in. Bill’s determination and persistent spirit were things Stan envied every so often and would think about late at night. Back in those days after they defeated It and his nightmares led him to have insomnia and lay around at 3am. A small part inside of him felt embarrassed that wasn’t as brave as everyone else during that time but another part of him felt like he had a reason. He couldn’t grip onto the fact that a demonic sewer clown was living right under his feet and could awake anytime. Nevermind the 27 year gap Ben talked about, Stan could practically still see him hiding down below.

Stan started to feel waves of relief wash over him as he neared his house. He smiled to himself as he parked his bike in his lawn and let himself in. Right when Stan steps in the door his father is already in the kitchen with a new newspaper in hand with the radio at his side playing some tune,

“Hello Stanley,” He put down the paper and crossed his arms. “Your mother told me that your alarm clock’s broken. What’s that about?”

He looked at his father as if this was the first time he was heard about his alarm clock, “When I woke up I just found it on my floor, shattered. I think I need a new one.”

“Let me look at it Stanley it probably just needs some fixing.”

“Uh,” Stan thought of an excuse, “I think it’s way too broken to fixed anymore but I’m just going to go to my room and do my homework cause I just have way too much right now.” He rambled quickly before jogging up the steps. He heard his father call out to him but still continued on going up.

He rushed in and abruptly closed his bedroom door. The truth was, was that he had no homework. He managed to finish them during his free time he had in some classes, and he was glad he didn’t have any on a weird day like this. The familiarity he felt in his room struck him but he was too tired to care. He made a beeline to his bed and threw himself on it, his bed making him feel much more relaxed.

He started thinking about his day, then his mind went back to Bill. The thought of having to hear from him tomorrow flooded Stan’s mind as he stared up at the ceiling with the sun poking through. He knew Bill would chew his ear off about it in English but he didn’t mind it. Even though he wanted to talk about literally anything else other than paranormal things, he enjoyed listening to him. 

Stan spent the time on his bed listening to the noises outside until he became bored of it. He sat up and remembered what he had to do before anything else. Immediately he hurried over to his closet with hesitation building up inside of him. He shut his eyes and felt his way to his door handle, opening it quickly and with great force. Right then he found his broken alarm clock in the corner of it and picked it up gently like he did in the morning. He took a few glances around the room before eyeing his window near his bed.

He hated having to do this but he didn’t want his father to see how badly damaged his clock was and bombard him with more questions so he took it upon himself to act. He walked over to his window, opened it, and took one last look at his alarm clock. He spotted a clear spot on the road in front of him where a car could easily crush it to bits and aimed there. With the little physical strength he had he threw his alarm clock out of his window and onto the street. He looked at it one last time before closing his window and pulling down the blinds, as if he didn’t see anything.

He had about two hours until dinner so he spent his time updating his bird book, looking back at old conversations Bill and him had in English, and reading some old comic books he had in his library. Three hours felt long but he didn’t complain, he only wanted the rest of his day to be as normal as possible without any mention of anything supernatural. The comics books were finished quickly and Stan jumped onto some books he had lying around his shelf.

His mother called him from downstairs when his dinner was apparently ready so Stan put down his comic book and leapt out of bed to go downstairs to meet his parents at the dinner table. He sat down with his plate holding roasted chicken which he neatly bit into as he overheard his parents talk about their day. A part of him wanted to tell them about the chalk explosion of Mr.Leno but knew it would be stupid to bring up, as if they would belive a piece of chalk randomly exploding during English.

Weirdly enough neither of his parents brought up his alarm clock. Neither asked how it’s condition was and neither barely spoke after talking about their job and morning. He ate his chicken wondering how he would wake up tomorrow, so he only hoped his body would memorize his sleep schedule and wake itself up on time tomorrow morning. He’d have to get a new alarm clock either way.

Stan finished his dinner and excused himself from the table to go get ready for bed. He showered, put on his pajamas, and brushed his teeth. He felt weirdly excited to be going to bed, as much as he hated to admit he wanted to have a weird dream that he could tell Bill about. Or any dream at this point. Anything that could grab Bill’s attention so he could see that same curiosity and excitement he liked. Once he finished he yelled his parents a goodnight from the upstairs bathroom and waltzed into his room. Hopefully, he thought, he could at least have a good rest and wake up fresh tomorrow.

But that was far from what he was currently experiencing on his bed at the moment. 

When he slipped under his covers, he turned off the light in his room and laid down, waiting for his eyes to shut. Instead the darkness of his room overcame him and he felt like a child, shaking in his bed and curling his toes so they could fit under his blanket and not hang off the edge of the bed. Maybe it was the conversation he had with the losers today, maybe it was the dream he had last night, maybe it was the conversation he had with Bill about the dream they both apparently shared. Either way his heart was racing as the moon peeked through his curtains and shined some amount of light into his room.

At these kinds of times, his mind seemed to always come up with the worst things to think about to compliment his ever growing fear that was building up in him. In the darkness of his room, he swore he heard something fall in his room which froze him in place in his covers. His eyes dart to a little part of his room that was lit up by the moon’s rays, that had a book that fell out of his book shelf. He thought that there was no way a book at that size would’ve fallen out on it’s own. Until another book fell. Then a picture on his shelf fell. But it stopped mid fall and stayed suspended in mid air.

Stan raised a shaky eyebrow at it until an action figure fell from another shelf and stopped mid air. Stan gripped onto his sheets tighter and he curled himself up as turned his head away from the items in his room that continued to fall on their own and float in mid air. His heart was pounding so much he thought he was going to pass out any time soon, he wasn’t complaining though since he wanted to pass out.

_Stop Stop Stop Stop_

He shut his eyes tight and curled his head down under the covers along with his body. Although he couldn’t see it, he heard more items being dragged off his shelves and fall without ever hitting the ground. The books, action figures, and pictures stayed suspended in the air as Stan hid under his covers, refusing to even peek at the display he didn’t know he was causing.

_Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep!_

His mind yelled at his body to shut down but it wouldn’t listen. Stan tried burrowing himself into his bed to avoid hearing more things slip out and fall without any sound. The atmosphere around him felt cold as his body felt hot and numb with paralyzing fear that kept him pinned to his bed under his covers curled up like a child. 

The more Stan thought about It creeping around his room in some demonic form, knocking his things down and keeping some of them floating in mid air, the more things started to float on their own. His lamp on his night stand flickered on and off and floated off from where it stood on his stand, the cord eventually becoming stretched out as it fell over, still flickering on and off.

_Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!_

His closet started opening and closing by itself loudly and Stan only cowered under his covers as he felt himself tear up when he heard his blinds shake and rattle. He made the worst mistake by peeking out his head from under the covers to see the haunting picture he painted in his room. His entire room was a mess of different objects that spun, rattled, and floated in the air and Stan quickly hid himself back under his covers.

He bit his quivering lip to keep himself from screaming and causing a scene to alert his parents. The objects in his room spinning around Stan as his bed started to lift off the ground. His closet was opening and closing louder and faster, his blinds and curtains shaking by themselves, while Stan kept his body pressed into the bed, his head under the covers, and his eyes glued shut with his head buried in his sheets to keep himself from hearing things move on their own.

_It’s gone. Stop. Sleep._  
_This isn’t real._  
_This isn’t real._  
_Nothing’s happening._

His bed stayed floating a couple inches off the ground in his room as practically every item in his room clumped together and was now circling above him like vultures. Leaving Stan let a tear run down his face with his mind screaming at him to go to sleep.

_This can't be happening._  
_Just go to sleep._  
_Sleep._  
_Sleep._  
_Sleep._  
_Sleep._  
_Sleep._


End file.
